


Sunrise

by Penguin_Massacre



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bilbo learns how to grieve healthily because he surely doesn't know how, Character Death, Depression, Discussion of canonical character death, Don’t copy to another site, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 12:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguin_Massacre/pseuds/Penguin_Massacre
Summary: Bilbo never learned how to deal with such a traumatic experience as The Battle of the Five Armies so after literally fleeing back to the Shire he falls apart each day a little more. That is until one day Dís stands on his frontstep and shows him that he isn't alone and how to properly grieve for what he lost. They end up healing together.





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ginamontier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginamontier/gifts).



> This fic was born of a conversation I had with @mandoshalls on Twitter about how Bilbo probably never learned how to deal with such a traumatic experience like The Battle of the Five Armies and what would be if he and Dís were to heal together. So this fic is dedicated to her! Thank you for the inspiration!
> 
> I hope everyone reading this will cry with me.

 

 

 

If you asked Bilbo, he would've said he was used to grief. He had lost his parents to a nasty illness well before their time. Nothing can hurt more than the loss of your loving parents, their departures so close to each other, on top of it all. It would’ve been too much for anyone. At least that’s what Bilbo thought.

But no amount of grief he had ever encountered in the Shire could’ve prepared him for the vast trauma that was left behind by the Battle of the Five Armies. Nothing had prepared him to see hundreds of hundreds mutilated bodies of dwarves, elves and men. Nothing could’ve prepared him to witness the violent, bloody and unfair death of the three dwarves he had come to care about like family.

He had been there when his parents had died; both of them slipping away in the dead of the night as he sat by their side, watching over them so they wouldn’t be alone. It had hurt. It still hurt, so, so much. But in the end he had been able to tell himself that at least they hadn’t suffered. There had been no blood. One second they had been breathing and the next they hadn’t. It was quiet, slipping away in your sleep. Peaceful, even.

And very unlike the way Fíli, Kíli and Thorin had died. Rammed through by orcish iron while trying to protect their people, their home. There had been so, so much blood. It hadn’t been quiet. It hadn’t been peaceful.

Nothing could’ve ever prepared Bilbo for the desperation of trying to anchor his friend in the world of the living with the promise of that horrible, horrible war being finally over, and won. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of his friend’s warm blood staining his hands. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of not being able to clean the blood from his hands no matter how long and thoroughly he scrubbed them either.

He could still feel it when his friends bodies had been collected from Raven Hill. He could feel it when they had prepared the bodies for the viewing. He could feel it as he wept for his lost friends at the funeral and later when he had tried to sneak away from Erebor without saying goodbye to the rest of the company.

He could feel it all the way to the Shire. And still after he had collected all his belongings from his neighbors and settled back in at Bag End, he could feel it.

Bilbo didn’t know what to do. Hobbits weren’t used to witnessing such violent deaths. There usually weren’t any, except maybe some farm accidents or a poor soul drowning. But never anything as bloody as a fight. Never anything as bloody as a war that cost hundreds of people their lives. Nobody would’ve known what to do. Not that he would have been able to ask anyone for help anyways. Most evaded him like the plague. They didn’t want anything to do with someone that suddenly ran off to have an adventure. It was most improper and very much not respectable. Things like this were frowned upon by most, except the Took’s of course. Not that he wanted to socialize with them anyways. He wanted to stay away from these gossips that knew nothing of the world. It’s what he told himself to ignore the fact that he was grieving. He wouldn’t allow himself to do so. That’s the way he was taught to handle this kind of situation, or at least the kind of situation in the Shire that came the closest to it.

The real reason was that he was unable to take care of himself. That he was unable to get out of bed most days. Not that he slept much; when morning came, he was already awake, but he couldn’t get up. And when he actually fell asleep, it was filled with night terrors where he relived Thorin’s death over and over again. When he actually fell asleep, it was only to wake up shortly after, screaming, covered in cold sweat and his heart trying to jump out of his chest. Every day his body gave out a little bit more, and every day he turned more and more into nothing but the shell of the hobbit he once was, with hollowed cheeks and dead eyes.

He was skipping meals because he just couldn’t really bring himself to eat. Not that he could really fill his pantry either. Every time he tried, he was reminded of the time his dwarves had come to his home and ate him out of house and home. How Fíli had walked on top of his kitchen table to distribute ale to everyone. How Kíli had started to sing with a smile on his face right after Bilbo had complained that the dwarves would blunt his knives. How there wasn’t nearly any food left when Thorin had finally arrived after getting lost in Hobbiton, of all things.

Bag End was a mess as well. He didn’t have the energy to tidy things up after he put all his displaced furniture, that had found its way back into his hands, back into place. Sometimes Bilbo hated himself for taking back keepsakes from Erebor. He didn’t even know why he had taken them or why some of these items were even given to him. Maybe because he didn’t want to let go of his dwarves. Maybe the things he took were too painful for the other to hold on to. He didn’t know. He had brought home one of Fíli’s dual swords, one of Kíli’s arrows, the mithril shirt Thorin had gifted him, the acorn he took from Beorn’s garden which brought such a soft look to Thorin’s face. He kept them in his mother’s glory box, which the boys had used to remove the mud from their shoes back when they arrived at his home. His dwarves had visited Bag End only once and still he had too many memories of them there to be entirely comfortable.

Everywhere he went there were ghosts of the past. Sometimes, when it was dark and late in the night, he thought he could see Thorin sitting at his table from the corner of his eye. Other times, he thought he could hear the boys’ laughter in the distance. He knew it was all a part of his imagination, but he indulged himself in the thoughts of what might’ve been. It probably wasn’t healthy, but he longed for them so much. He couldn’t help it.

Bilbo’s days were dark. The lack of sleep and food were making him weak. He had tried to keep up a routine, but would find himself sitting in his garden, his pipe long gone cold, staring into nothingness. His garden, which would be dying if Mr. Gamgee hadn’t continued to take care of it. Mr. Gamgee, who was too understanding, and whose wife would bring Bilbo food because she was just as worried as her husband about him. The food which would often spoil, because Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to eat it all. Still, he brought back the containers with a mostly sincere smile and thanks on his lips.

He knew his neighbors were talking about him. How his sitting on his bench and just staring into nothingness for hours was unsettling. But what did they know? It was the most unsettling for him, since he was experiencing it first hand. He wouldn’t even know that hours had passed since he sat down. Sometimes he felt like everything was unreal. Sometimes he was watching himself sit there on his bench not moving for hours. Sometimes his heart would start racing for no apparent reason. Sometimes he had trouble breathing. Sometimes he passed out from this.

But worse than the memory problems, the out of body experiences, these bouts of passing out and the apathy that he felt on most days, was when he felt on edge and unsafe in his own home. When he felt like he would be attacked any moment soon. Like there was danger around every corner.  
During times like this, he felt on the edge of panic and he just didn’t know what to do about it. Of course, he couldn’t carry Sting all times of the day - He was already very much an outsider. And it wouldn’t help if he accidentally stabbed someone that startled him. So Sting stayed along Fíli’s sword, Kíli’s arrow, Thorin’s mithril shirt and the acorn in his mother’s glory box.

Bilbo tried to be strong and ignore all the pain he was going through. Old Took had said that the pain will be gone faster if one doesn’t think about it and many others had agreed. This had been after the Fell Winter, which had taken many lives and was the most devastating disaster any of them had ever experienced. This advice had served them quite well at the time. They had gotten on their feet again fast and everything had gone back to normal soon after. Bilbo couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working now. He didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere at all. Often he wondered how one hobbit could deal with such a grave loss. He didn’t know. No one in the Shire knew, he was sure. Because the Shire was peaceful. And no one ever left.

Half a year after his coming home he had completely isolated himself from almost everyone except the Gamgees, who still came over to look after him at least once a day. Not even his Took cousins, who had come over often to pester him about his adventure after he came back, visited anymore. He had already been reclusive before he ran off with 13 dwarves and a wizard. He didn’t want to think about the fact that it had taken on new extremes now. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he got used to being around many, and especially loud people during the year of his travel. He didn’t want to think about the fact that Bag End felt entirely too quiet.  
He told himself that it was fine.

It was probably for the best that no one came around anymore. He was aware that he was irritable, unsociable and probably very unpleasant to be around.  
He told himself that he didn’t mind.

Because of all that he didn’t expect the knock on his door around dinner time at all. It startled him so badly his fight or flight instinct was activated before he realized that it was just a visitor. Slowly he put away the knife he’d grabbed in his panic. Bilbo breathed in slowly a few times to calm himself down. He had realized controlling his breathing in times of panic helped him to not pass out about two months ago. When he was calm enough he made his way over to greet whoever was visiting. He didn’t look presentable but he didn’t care much. It probably was just Mr. Gamgee checking up on him. Bilbo opened the door.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Instead of Mr. Gamgee there was a dwarf standing before him. It was none of the company, but still he instantly knew who stood in front of him.  
The resemblance was indisputable.  
She looked so much like Thorin with her dark hair and blue eyes and the distinctive slope of her nose, but her face was rounder and the expression on it looked so much like Kíli’s when they had first met.  
It could only be Thorin’s sister and the mother of Fíli and Kíli.  
It could only be Dís.

Bilbo didn’t know what to say. It seemed like she didn’t know either because for a moment they just stared at each other. Bilbo tried very hard to control his breathing and not start crying on the spot. Dís’ eyes looked very sad and tried. Still she tried for a small smile. It looked so much like the ones Fíli used to give him from time to time. She then opened her mouth.

“Gandalf said this place would be easy to find but I lost my way here. Twice.”

And that’s when Bilbo couldn’t keep himself together anymore. This was just too familiar, a ghost of his past coming to visit him.  
He fell to his knees, tears running down his face freely. He felt a bit bad about it because Dís looked so very concerned. But nothing mattered in that moment.  
He was confronted with all the things he tried so hard to ignore.  
How much he missed Thorin, Fíli and Kíli. How much their loss hurt him. How much he blamed himself for their death. How he wasn’t fast enough. How he wasn’t strong enough to protect them.

It hurt. It hurt so, so bad. It hurt so bad it scared him. His blood was rushing through his ears. His breathing became heavy. And he couldn’t stop staring at her as he kneeled there in front of her.  
She who lost so much more than he did. She who now sank to the floor as well and hugged him tight. She who let him sob into her shoulder when it wasn’t his right to hurt that much when it was her family that was lost.  
And still she held him in a strong but gentle embrace. And still she pet his hair. And still she waited patiently for him to get a grip on himself.  
The world had been so cruel to her her whole life and still she had the kindness in her heart to comfort him.

It took quite some time for Bilbo to calm down again and he was glad that Dís had the mind to close the door behind her so not all of Hobbiton had witnessed his breakdown. His sobs had quieted down to sniffles and he had his breathing mostly under control when Dís pulled back and looked at him. She still had a very concerned look in her eyes when she took his face into her hands and brushed away his tears. She then pulled him up on his feet and led him to a chair to sit on.  
When her hands left his shoulders he felt the loss instantly. In that moment he understood for the first time in ages just how touchstarved he was. Without even thinking he reached out for her hand again, not wanting her to go, but realized fast what he was doing. He took his hands back quickly clasping the together in his lap. Dís had realized what he had tried to do though.

“I’ll just get you something to drink and then I’ll be right back.”  
Bilbo nodded and then croaked: “The kitchen is right over there.”  
Dís got him a cup of water. “So you won’t get a headache.”, she said and then took a chair over to his side so she was sitting close to him. They were quiet for some time while Bilbo drank the water she had brought him. It was Dís who broke the silence first.  
“Judging from your reaction you know who I am.”, she said not looking at him.  
“Judging from you standing in front of my door in the first place, you know who I am too.”, Bilbo replied not looking at her either. Then they were silent again both not knowing where to start.

“Dís why are you here?”, he finally asked quietly, looking at his hands which were still wrapped around his cup. They’ve never met before but with how much Fíli and Kíli had talked about their mother it felt like he knew her. It felt right to address her informally.

She didn’t answer right away, instead looking at her fiddling thumbs.  
“Balin told me about you and what you did for my family. I wanted to see how you were doing and the Shire isn’t too far from Ered Luin.”  
Bilbo laughed curtly at that. It was a rough and unpleasant sound.  
“You mean how I failed your family.” He sighed “If you’re here to blame me in person I can assure you that you don’t have to because I’ve been doing it every day.”

Dís gaped at him at that, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.  
“Oh Bilbo...” was all she said before she took him back into her arms. “Do you really think that it’s your fault? You did everything you could to keep them safe, even going as far as sacrificing your own happiness and the friendship you built with them. And I am more than grateful that they had such a wonderful friend in you.”

At her words Bilbo’s eyes filled with tears again. “How can you say that? If I’d just been a bit faster I could’ve warned them in time! If I’d just ...” Dís interrupted him.  
“You stop right there Bilbo Baggins!”, she said and Bilbo could hear the Durin temper in her voice. She hugged him harder.  
“This was a fool's quest from start to finish. It was doomed to fail from the beginning. I mean: 13 dwarves against a dragon when a whole army couldn’t stop it before? It was a hopeless undertaking but it wouldn’t stop them from trying. And I couldn’t stop them either. They were old enough to make their own decisions and they’ve made up their minds. All I could do was pray for them. That they made it to the mountain was all because of you. That we were able to reclaim Erebor in the end was all because of you. You did all you could. That my boys and brother fell during battle is not your fault.”

She was quiet for a moment and Bilbo felt a wet spot forming on his shoulder. He realized that she was now crying too. He wondered how often she’d done so in the last few months.

“At least they weren’t alone and Thorin got to apologize for his actions so he didn’t have to take his grief with him into the Halls of Waiting.”  
Bilbo couldn’t say anything to that. He just gripped Dís tighter and continued to weep with her. They sat like this for a long time.

When they finally let go of each other Bilbo wiped away his tears with his shirtsleeve.  
“I haven’t cried like this since the burial and that was half a year ago. Quite pathetic isn’t it?”  
“Why would that be? You are allowed to grieve.”, she tells him. Bilbo is quiet for a bit.  
“Yeah I know. But it’s not like I’ve known them long and neither are they family. It’s not my right to do so half a year later.”, he said quietly, “And also it’s better to just ignore the pain so it’ll go away faster.”  
At that she looked at him horrified.

“That’s exactly what you should not do! Who told you that?”, she nearly yelled at him quite agitated and Bilbo shrunk away from her. Seeing that she caught herself fast and apologized quietly.  
“But really Bilbo, ignoring the pain will just prolong your suffering.”, she told him in a quiet voice. She took his hand in hers again and stroked the back of it with her thumb.  
“Old Took said this some time ago after the Fell Winter and it seemed to work well enough then.”

Dís thought about it for a while, not stopping her ministrations.  
“Well you Shire folk never went through such traumatic experiences like war before I imagine. At least not in recent history so that people would remember what it was like. I’m pretty sure that no one here knows how to deal with it.”

Bilbo looked at their joint hands. It was nice, the gentle touch of another person.  
“You are probably right there.”, he admitted. Dís hummed lightly at that.  
“Don’t worry Bilbo.”, she said, “I’ll teach you how to grief healthily.” Another short pause. “And I’d like to repay the service you did for my family and my people with my friendship. If you will have me that is.”  
She seemed a little reluctant at the last part. As if she was worried that Bilbo would refuse her.  
“That would be quite agreeable.”, he answered her and for the first time in a long while he smiled and it was genuine.

They didn’t want to get up but they couldn’t spend the entire night sitting in his living room. They didn’t even had dinner and for the first time in months Bilbo actually felt like he could eat a bit. So he suggested making something light and Dís agreed. She had walked a long way to his front door and was quite hungry she told him. Mrs. Gamgee had brought him a roast chicken with potatoes and other vegetables that day and he was quite thankful to have it so he could offer it to Dís . Himself he got some fruit to eat.

They migrated to the kitchen. Bilbo was embarrassed of the state of his home. It was messy and hadn’t been cleaned in a while. There were dirty dishes in his sink which he didn’t have the energy for to wash up and clothes on the floor. The only thing he got rid off instantly were cobwebs since they reminded him about Mirkwood.

Before he could apologize for the mess though, Dís put a hand on his shoulder in understanding.  
“I’ve been there too.”, she told him. “Tomorrow we’ll whip your home back into shape. I don’t think we’ll have the energy to do so today.”

He nodded appreciatively. “Thank you Dís.”, he said quietly looking at her. Mr. Gamgee had offered the same thing before, but Bilbo never wanted to take him up on the offer. It was different with Dís. Probably because he knew that she understood him in ways no one in the Shire did. She wouldn’t judge him either. There was no pity in her eyes, only empathy.

They didn’t talk much more that night. Both were exhausted so Bilbo showed her the way to the guest room and bathroom before he got ready for bed himself. Sleep took him faster this night but like always it didn’t last long. Once again he was plagued by the ever occurring nightmare that tortured him nearly every single night.

Fíli run through from behind by Azog and his body unceremoniously dumped before his brothers feet, a dark puddle forming fast where he lay. Thorin lieing on the ground before Bilbo, his blood turning the snow from white to red. Tauriel sobbing into Kílis pierced through chest.  
Blood. So much blood. Blood everywhere. Blood beneath his friends bodies. Blood staining his hands. Blood he is unable to wash off. Blood that…

Suddenly he was shaken awake. In his panicked state it took him several moments before his eyes finally focussed on Dís’ face. He was breathing harshly and was covered in a cold sweat. Dís didn't say a thing while Bilbo tried to get a grip on himself. She was just sitting there next to him slowly stroking his cheek with her thumb until his breathing stopped being so frantic.

He closed his eyes for a short moment to focus, then got up to rub himself dry and change into new clothes. He told Dís as much. When she was still there when he came back, he sat down next to her in the dark of the bedroom. Neither of them said a word for a long time but Bilbo felt almost comfortable with the quiet company. He shocked himself with the admission he spoke into the quiet of the night.

“Nearly every time I close my eyes I see how they died.”, he nearly whispered. “There is always so, so much blood and it stains my hands.”, he was trembling slightly as he said the words.

Dís put her arm around him and gently pressed his head against her shoulder.  
“I am never able to wash it off.”, he admitted with a desperate ring to his voice. He closed his eyes tightly as if to escape the memories, not that it helped.  
These nightmares always left him on edge but having Dís right there next to him helped slightly.  
As comforting as her presence and warm touch was, Bilbo knew he probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, but that didn’t mean that Dís had to stay awake as well. He told her as much.

“I’m not leaving you right now.”, she answered him. Bilbo knew it wouldn’t bring anything to argue with her. Stubbornness of the dwarves, and especially of those of the line of Durin and such. So he didn’t even try to talk her into leaving. Not that he really wanted her to.  
He sighed lightly. “Let’s at least lie down.”

It was a tight fit but still comfortable. Dís tried to stay awake with him but she was too tired from her travel to do so. She fell asleep fast. Bilbo stayed awake staring up to the dark ceiling blankly. His thoughts were still racing. But instead of being about his friends lost, they were about the very remarkable dwarf sleeping next to him.

Bilbo had heard quite a bit about her on his travel. How she was strong and unyielding and empathetic and fierce and loyal. He could only agree. From what she’d shown him in the short time they’d known each other she had proved it all and so much more. She was probably the strongest person Bilbo knew. Maybe one day he could be half as strong as her. That would already suffice he thought.

Bilbo lay in the quiet night next to a living breathing person for the first time in months. He didn’t even realize his thoughts slowing down until the warmth of the body next to him had lulled him into a light but dreamless sleep.

 

When Bilbo woke up for a second time he was quite disoriented but felt more rested than he had in months. He blinked. It was already bright outside. He hadn’t slept for such a long time in forever. That was quite curious. For a moment he tried to figure out how that had happened until he remembered his late night company. He looked to his left. Dís was still sleeping soundly next to him. He should make her breakfast as a thanks, he thought, so he got up to freshen up and start on preparing food. There wasn’t much left in his home, just a bit of bread, some eggs and bacon. It was only enough for a small breakfast but it would suffice. They had to go grocery shopping later that day, though.

Dís arrived just when everything was prepared. Bilbo had even found the energy to clean the dishes that had been collecting in the sink. Over breakfast they chatted about some light topics, ignoring last nights happenings for the time being. After they were finished eating they got ready quickly to go to the market and fill up Bilbo’s pantry.

The two of them got quite a few questioning looks but Bilbo had gotten used to them some time ago. He didn’t mind and it seemed that Dís didn’t either. If Bilbo was honest with himself he was comfortable walking around with her by his side. He felt less alone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed company until he had it again.

After they’d arrived back home and had stored away all the food, they got to work to clean up the rest of the flat.  
“It doesn’t have to be everything.”, Dís told him. “Only a bit will be ok.”  
He surely didn’t have the energy to clean up all of Bag End. Even with Dís helping him out. It was a huge smial. He didn’t want her to do most of the work and she understood. They stopped when he couldn’t go on anymore. Dís made them some tea.

Bilbo needed some more time to rest even after the tea was gone but Dís got up after some time to make some cookies. They had gotten the ingredients earlier because she had said that “She felt in the mood to bake.”. Bilbo hadn’t minded. Cookies had sounded like a good idea then. They still did. He vacated with her to the kitchen and watched her get to work.

She didn’t force him to talk with her but she chattered about many things. She kept his mind from straying too far and her warm demeanor even helped him to open up a bit himself. He hadn’t talked that much in a long time.  
When her cookies were done they sat down at the kitchen table and had a taste. They were delicious. She seemed quite proud of herself but Bilbo had a feeling it wasn’t because of the cookies.

Bilbo started wondering how long Dís would be staying after a few months of her living with him. Not that he didn’t appreciate her company. On contrary. He quite enjoyed it. She made his days brighter and the comfortable routine they had fallen into kept his days structured. Still he couldn’t shake the thought.

 

One day he finally asked her when she had to leave. She had told him that she would stay as long as she was needed. He had laughed at that. That would be for a very long time, he had said, but Dís had only shaken her head and smiled at him. That was fine with her she had told him. She wouldn’t just leave behind a friend in need. Especially a friend that was so dear to her.

Bilbo didn’t realize what Dís was doing for the longest time. In fact he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all if Mr. Gamgee hadn’t pointed out that he seemed healthier and happier.

And it was true. Slowly but surely Dís had fed some weight on him. Not only that. With her chatter about dwarven cuisine and questions about different hobbit recipes she slowly but surely had kindled Bilbo’s passion for cooking again.  
There were still days where he wasn’t able to make anything to feed them, days where he didn’t have much of an appetite, but it had gotten so, so much better. And he didn’t even realize.

Another thing she had accomplished without him realizing was that she got him to open up about the quest, about Thorin, Fíli and Kíli, about things that had happened. He had tried to avoid talking about them, even thinking about them, for the longest time.

But nowadays he found himself able to retell the first meeting he had with the company, the meeting with the trolls, the barrel ride to Laketown and even the pranks that Fili and Kili had gotten up to on the course of their travel. He could even chuckle lightly about all the ridiculous things his dwarves had done in Rivendell.

He was able to remember the good times he had with the company without pain. Dís had smiled at him when he had told her so one evening over dinner. She had then said that he would find that it would hurt less and less over time and that that one day he would be able to talk about everything that had happened. Even the bad things.  
Bilbo couldn’t quite believe her then but Dís had never been wrong before so he had to, even if somewhat reluctantly.

There were some things that had improved that he had noticed.  
One thing was that Bag End wasn’t as much of mess anymore. Nowadays he kept up with tidying up and Dís helped him when he hadn’t in himself to do so. He told himself that it was solely because he was embarrassed if his home was disorderly while he had someone over, but he couldn’t help but notice how he had felt more energized over time.

It was probably linked to him being able to sleep better too, which Bilbo credited to Dís’ company entirely. Most nights she would stay in his room. He found he slept better, more soundly, with a warm body pressed next to him. Most people in the Shire would probably be aghast if they knew that they were sharing a bed almost every night, even though they weren’t married. Bilbo didn’t care. They were friends. And they were helping each other.

He wasn’t the only one with night terrors he found. Dís was plagued by bad dreams too. He had asked about them one night. They were exactly like his he found. But she had told him that they were better when she was lieing next to him. He had said that he was glad that he could help her as it was the same for him. She had smiled at that and had taken his hand under the covers in hers. Bilbo really had gotten accustomed to skinship and physical affection quite a lot. He liked it.

After the talk he had with Mr. Gamgee he had started to think about how he had healed without even realizing it. He had started to think about just how much better he had gotten in the months that Dís had stayed with him. He was a bit shocked. He never would’ve thought to miss his life turning for the better. He had gone back home and told her about his revelation fast. She had looked at him with such warmth that he couldn’t help but smile. He had done that a lot more frequently the past few weeks and months too.

“I’m glad.”, Dís had told him as she had hugged him.  
“This was your plan all along.”, he had said in a accusing but still light tone. “Not that I’m complaining.” He had added and then had hugged her a bit tighter. “How did you do it?”  
“To cope with your grief you need a comfortable routine, allow yourself to accept and feel your emotions and share them with someone who is willing to listen. Hiding your hurt only intensifies it. Problems grow in the dark and only become bigger and bigger, but when exposed to the light of truth, they shrink.”, she had told him and Bilbo had just looked at her flabbergasted.  
“And you accomplished all that without me even noticing.”, he mused. “You are incredible, Dís.”  
“You are incredible too, Bilbo Baggins. You helped me quite a lot as well, since you gave me the same I gave to you. A Routine, acceptance of what I’m feeling, a shoulder to lean on and an open ear for me to share my sorrows. And I am quite thankful for that.”  
That night they had opened a bottle of wine to celebrate what they had accomplished. They knew they still had a long way to go and heal though.

 

“Some days I have the fear that moving on with my life means I’m forgetting about what was lost.”, Bilbo had told Dís one night. It had always been easier for him to voice his fears in the dark and late hours of the day. Dís had pressed his head under her chin and his body close to hers after he had voiced his fear.

“Sometimes I feel like that too.”, she had confessed then. “But in times like this I try to remind myself that it actually means that I have accepted the loss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that life is for the living. You can’t spent it wasting away grieving for the dead. I know they wouldn’t have wanted me to. So I’m honouring them by moving on and living as good as I can. They know I’ll never forget them.”

Bilbo had hummed at that. “Once again you show that you are very wise. What would I do without you?”, he wondered aloud. Dís had laughed at that.  
“Who knows. I don’t want to imagine that to be honest. I’m quite happy with how things have turned out.” Bilbo had snuggled further into her side then.  
“Me too, Dís, me too.”

 

It was 5 months into Dís’ stay when a messenger from Erebor arrived at their front step and took her with him. “To take care of some urgent business”, he’d said not specifying further. Bilbo had completely forgotten that Dís still was the princess of Durin’s folk. She surely had commitments. And she had stayed with him all this time. He hoped that she wasn’t in trouble. He had to ask her when she came back.  
That was if she came back. They had left so quickly that Bilbo didn’t even have the time to ask how long she would be gone.

Getting used to being alone again was hard. Having spent every waking moment (and most of the sleeping ones too) around someone lead to feeling incredibly alone when they were gone. Dís and with extension the Gamgees had been Bilbo’s only contact to other people for some time. He really needed to change that. He didn’t want to fall back into the bad habit of isolating himself. Not after he and Dís had worked so hard on healing and getting better. So he started to go out more.

He visited the market often and spent a lot of his time taking care of his garden. The Gamgees invited him over for tea often and he was happy. But he still felt alone. His walks got longer and longer. Until they brought him to the front steps of his Took relatives. Finally he made good on the promise he had given himself after Dís had left. He knocked on the door.  
They were all very happy to see him. Especially since he was now telling them little stories of his adventure. Not all of it, since it still hurt too much to think about certain things, much less share them. But the funny ones were no problem, not anymore. The tales about the trolls and the barrel ride became fast favorites.

 

One day after a visit he was asked by one of his nephews if he could bring his lady dwarf friend with him when she was back. That she would like to meet her and Bilbo quickly assured her that he would bring her as soon as he could. Dís would surely be thrilled to hear about it.

 

It took 2 more months for her to come back to the Shire again. Bilbo had thought that she would write him beforehand about her arrival but she didn't. One evening she just stood in front of his door.  
“You silly dwarves are completely unable to inform people that you’re coming for dinner, aren’t you?”, he teased her as he enclosed her in his arms.

He was so happy to see her that he didn’t even notice the person standing behind her.  
Dís laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. “I guess it’s just who we are.”, she said before another voice chimed in.  
“It would’ve also ruined the surprise now wouldn’t it?”

It was Bofur. Bilbo let out an elated laugh.

“You are unbelievable!”, he cried before he nearly threw himself at his friend, catching him in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy to see you Bofur.”, Bilbo mumbled into his shoulder. Bofur only hugged him even tighter, nearly pressing the breath out of Bilbo before letting him go again. Bilbo looked in Bofur’s face. He seemed tired but otherwise fine. His eyes and smile were just as warm as Bilbo remembered them to be.  
He gave his friend’s arms a tight squeeze.  
“What a pleasant surprise.”, he said before he turned back around and pulled Dís and Bofur into the kitchen where he had just started to prepare dinner. His pantry was filled well so it wasn’t hard to prepare food for two people more.

Over dinner Dís and Bofur told him about how the rebuilding of Erebor progressed, how the rest of the company fared and especially what Bofur had been up to for the last year and a half. He had settled into his new life quite nicely he told Bilbo. He still worked as a miner even though he was rich enough to not have to do so now. He liked his work though and he wouldn’t know what to do with so much free time anyways he said. He was happy.

After they were finished eating Bilbo told them about the newest Shire gossip. Bilbo could see on Dís’ face that she was very pleased with how he had been doing while she was gone. Especially when he told them that he had rekindled the connections with his family she was delighted.

“You both should come and visit them with me tomorrow. They said that they would love to meet my lady dwarf friend. But with as much as they love the stories about the trolls and the barrel ride to Laketown I’m sure they would be excited to meet a hero from these tales as well.”, he told the both of them. Of course they agreed to go.

Like Bilbo had expected his Took cousins were extremely excited to meet his dwarves. And as much as they had begged to meet Dís, Bofur became their instant favorite. They loved his hat, they loved his jokes and they loves that they could climb all over him. Bofur didn’t mind. In fact he was incredibly delighted by the swarm of tiny hobbits crawling all over him and fighting for his attention. He really must love kids Bilbo mused.

He looked over to check on Dís. She had 2 girls braiding flowers into her hair and beard and seemed to be happy enough indulging them. Bilbo smiled. He was glad that his friends were having fun. They really deserved it.

In the end they ended up staying until after dinner and only went back home when all the children were put to bed. They had begged half an hour for their parents to allow them to stay up a little longer and get a bedtime story told by Bofur which he granted happily. He really was a master storyteller. “It’s because I tell stories to my Bombur’s children all the time.”, he’d said. Bilbo had only laughed and answered that they sure were lucky to have him as an uncle.

When they finally arrived back at Bag End it was late into the night. They were all pretty tired from the day so they decided to wash up and go to bed. Bofur and Dís had vanished into their respectable guestrooms some time ago but Bilbo still couldn’t find sleep so he decided to read a book. That’s when he heard a door in his house opening. He marked the page he was on and went to look if his friend needed something. He found Bofur mindlessly wandering the hall next to his bedroom.

“Can’t sleep either?”, Bilbo asked him quietly and Bofur nearly jumped out of his skin.  
“By Mahal’s beard Bilbo do you want to kill me?”, he asked in an agitated but still quiet voice. Bilbo laughed quietly at that.  
“A burglar has to be quiet on his feet, doesn’t he?”, he asked teasingly but then added a sincere “I didn’t mean to startle you though. Sorry.”  
Bofur didn’t seem to be angry though. Not that Bilbo thought that he would ever see him so.  
“It’s quite alright. I just forgot how quiet you can actually be. And I didn’t expect to not be able to hear you with how quiet it is here.”  
“It really is very quiet.”, Bilbo mused. “Unlike the first time you lot invaded my home. Thirteen dwarves sure are loud even in their sleep. Especially Bombur’s snores could be heard through my entire smial.” He chuckled at the memory.

Bofur only hummed with a smile on his face. Bilbo lead him into the living room to sit down. If Bofur couldn’t sleep either it would be nice to have company.  
“That’s true. With as many as we were I didn’t realize just how huge your home is either.” He paused then shortly as if pondering if he should continue this train of thought. Then he continued. “It must be lonely to live in such a big home all alone.”

Once again Bilbo was astonished just how receptible Bofur was.  
“It was.”, Bilbo answered quietly. “Especially after I finally came home. The silence was too loud after spending day and night with you guys.”  
Bilbo evaded Bofur’s gaze and stared into the fire.  
“I wasn’t in a good place, back then. I lost myself. I felt unsafe in my home often and when I didn’t I felt entirely apathetic. Night terrors wouldn’t let me sleep. I wasn’t able to eat. I just wasted away until Dís arrived at my doorstep one evening and started putting me back together.”, he confessed and then looked at Bofur again whose intense but still warm and empathetic stare bored into him. He gave him a small smile.  
“I missed you all so much but I didn’t let myself grief properly which lead to unnecessary hurt. But I am way better now. So you don’t have to worry. Not anymore.”, he assured his friend.

Bofur ran a hand over his face.  
“I thought as much with how you literally fled from Erebor right after the funeral. I just hoped that you had someone waiting for you back home to help you through this hard time. It was not easy to accept what happened. For all of us. But it seems that unlike us you had to deal with it on your own.”, he let out a heavy sigh.  
“I wish I could’ve been there for you. I really do.”, he said sincerely and took Bilbo’s hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Bilbo squeezed back.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m not even sure if anyone else but Dís would’ve been able to bring me out of my stupor.”  
Bofur just hummed lightly. “I’m still feeling bad I wasn’t there for you.”, he said quietly but then added with dedication in his voice: “Well it’s in the past and we can’t do anything about it anymore. I can only make sure that I’m there for you when you need me in the future.”  
“And I couldn’t ask for more.”, Bilbo said with an appreciative smile on his lips. “Now come we should be sleeping right now.” He pulled Bofur up from his seat.  
“How about you join me like on the journey? For old times sake.”, he suggested and didn’t need a verbal answer to know his friends answer. The grin on Bofur’s face was answer enough. So Bilbo pulled him into the direction of his bedroom.

It was nice not only having Dís but also Bofur around.  
Bilbo had always greatly enjoyed Bofur’s company. He was the first to treat him like he was one of the company and his warm and cheerful demeanor had made him easy to talk to. With Bofur, Bilbo found, it was easier to open up about the painful things that had happened on their journey.  
Probably because he had lived through them too. Bilbo found himself next to a warm body most nights like before, but it wasn’t only Dís but also Bofur lieing next to him.

In the nights where Bofur joined him they talked about the things Bilbo hadn’t even shared with Dís. He wondered if bringing someone that went through the same events as he did to his doorstep was another one of her silent ways of helping him. Either way he was grateful for Bofur’s presence in his home.

“Even though Dís tells me time and time again that it wasn’t my fault I still blame myself for their death.”, Bilbo confessed with tears collecting in his eyes during one of his and Bofur’s late night talks.  
“She says that I did everything I could and I know that she is right but I still can’t help it.”, he whispered to the ceiling.

Bofur didn’t answer for a while but Bilbo knew that he had heard him by the way he turned on his side and curled an arm around Bilbo’s middle to pull him flush to his chest. Bilbo really liked it when his friends pulled him in so that he could hide his face against their shoulders. It was a gesture of great comfort for him and it made it easier for him to talk about hurtful things. It made him feel loved and save.

After Bilbo had caught himself again Bofur had opened his mouth.  
“You know Dwalin feels exactly like you. He had sworn to protect Thorin and the lads. He was the only one that went up to Raven Hill with them originally and he is the only one that came back down alive.”, he told him.  
“For all the time I’ve known him I’ve never seen him like this. He has lost much and fought in many battles but losing them nearly broke him. We were all very worried but fortunately there was a mind healer among Dain’s people who helped us all get through the worst. I guess you don’t have any of those in the Shire.”

Bilbo only shook his head trying to process what Bofur just told him. He would’ve never guessed that Dwalin had went through the same things that he did. He had always seemed so strong and unfazed. But on the other hand Thorin had been his best friend and even if he tried to hide it with his hard demeanor Dwalin had a soft core. Bilbo felt great sympathy for him.

“I hope he is better now.”, he told Bofur sincerely who pulled him in a bit more and hummed.  
“He is now. But you could write him a letter. It would be good for the both of you. In fact you should write all of the company. I wasn’t the only one missing you dearly.”  
“I will do so.”, Bilbo promised.

 

The time Bofur stayed with Bilbo and Dís was wonderful, but after a month and a half he had told them that he had to go back to Erebor. Bombur would come to the Shire and drag him back by his ear personally if he wouldn’t be on his way back soon he had told them and Bilbo had laughed brightly at the image.  
So one warm summer day Bofur had packed his belongings and with lots of food, letters and a few gifts for all the members of the company he had been on his way.  
Bilbo had been sad to see him go but he had known from the beginning that Bofur wouldn't stay forever.  
He had promised to come and visit at least once a year though for which Bilbo was glad. He had told him that he should come to one of the festivals and that he should bring some of their other friends too. You haven’t really lived if you’ve never been to a Shire fest he had told him laughing.

 

With Bofur gone Dís and Bilbo fell back into the routine they had before she had left, except that now they also visited his Took relatives at least once a week. They were very domestic. In fact so domestic that Bilbo’s neighbors and friends started to refer to Dís as his wife. Dís didn’t really mind. She told him to just let them talk. He asked her why she wouldn’t say anything about it. That she had been married and lost her husband. That surely would stop them from gossiping. But Dís just said that people wanted to believe what they wanted to believe and the more they disagreed the more they would see their believes confirmed. Bilbo couldn’t see a fault in her logic.

What he hadn’t expected was that talk leading to Dís opening up about her late husband. Sitting on the hill over Bag End in the warmth of the summer sun she had told him about how they’d met, how they had fallen in love, how happy they had been when they realized that she was pregnant with their first child, how much it had hurt her to lose him when Fili was still so young and Kili not even born, how hard it had been to raise her boys without a father, how grateful she had been that Thorin was more than happy to take over that role, how happy it had made her that he had loved them like they were his own.  
Bilbo saw that it still pained her greatly to talk about it, that she still loved and mourned for her lost love even after all these years.

He took her into his arms and told her about his parents who were taken by illness way before their time so shortly after each other.

They had gone inside after that and Bilbo had taken out Fíli’s sword, Kíli’s arrow and Thorin’s gift for the first time after he had stored them away in his mothers glory box. With tears in her eyes Dís had taken the items into her hands gently. She had smiled at him then with watery eyes.  
“Those are some very special items, Bilbo Baggins.”, she had said. “I’m glad you have kept them.”

She had pressed them against her chest lightly and that was when an acorn had fallen from them to the ground and startled them slightly. Bilbo had picked it up gently and looked at it softly.

“Huh I had quite forgotten about you.”, he murmured quietly.  
“What is it? An acorn?”  
“I picked it up in Beorn’s garden.”, he told her. “I had shown it to Thorin once and he had said that I should plant it in my garden back home.”  
He was quiet for a moment rolling it between his fingers before he continued.  
“We should do so. To honor him.”  
Dís nodded softly before she added: “Maybe we could plant a tree for my boys too.”

Bilbo agreed. Later they brainstormed what kind of tree to plant for Fíli and Kíli. They settled on elder. Dís really liked the flowers it wore when it was in full bloom and the berries were very versatile in use. It was a plant that she connected with things that made her happy. Later she told him that Kili’s first bow was made of elder wood too and Bilbo could only agree that it was a good choice for them.

When they went out the next day to get two elder seedlings he asked her if she wanted to plant a tree for her husband and younger other brother too. She had just looked at him and said with a light chuckle that then they could call the hill they planned to plant the plants on Durin’s Hill with how many of her family members were going to be honored there. Bilbo told her that he didn’t mind. So they came back the next day to pick up a maple seedling for Frerin and an apple seedling for Víli and then planted them together with the elder and the acorn on a hill on Bilbo’s property.

“Thorin’s oak will need much more time than the other trees to show itself.”, he had told Dís. “But he was always very slow to open up so it fits.”  
Dís could only laugh at that.

 

Summer turned into autumn and suddenly it wasn’t that long until Bilbo’s 53rd birthday and for the first time in two years he would have a party. He and Dís didn’t invite all that many people as far as hobbit birthday parties go. Only the Gamgee’s, some (many) Took’s and a few others that were good friends of them. The both of them spent the day before the fest frantically preparing food and decorating the smial for the occasion.  
In the end all the hard work paid off. The party was a huge success. There was good food, good drink, good music and good company. Their guests stayed til the early hours of the morning before they wanked back home to to sleep away the alcohol.

After all the guests had left and they lay in bed, Bilbo told Dís that even though he had a lot of fun he wished that the company would’ve been with them. Dís had answered that he should invite them next year. She was sure they would be happy to come. Dwarves sure loved their free ale. Bilbo had laughed, a plan forming in his head. He would invite them to celebrate with him the next year and they would sit together as merry as the first time they were in his home even if three of them couldn’t be with them anymore. They would have a good time.

 

Autumn turned into winter and winter turned into spring and still Dís was a comfortable and familiar presence in his life. He couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have her there by his side and he didn’t want to. He never wanted her to leave him again.

One day he had told her as much and asked if she would have to go back to Ered Luin or Erebor one day. She had told him that she wouldn’t. She had lain down her leadership role after she was informed of her brother’s and sons’ deaths. She had a claim on Erebors throne since she was the daughter of Thrain but she didn’t want to rule in the place that had taken the last of her family from her. Dain made a good king she had said but Bilbo couldn’t help but be bitter that the role was given to him when he only ever decided to help Thorin after the dragon was dead. She also didn’t want to return to Ered Luin since it held just as many bad memories for her. Bilbo couldn’t fault her for that.

Wherever she went she was followed by loss. She was happiest to stay in the Shire with him who she hesitantly called newfound family, as if Bilbo didn’t feel the same about her. He had told her as much and also let her know how happy it made him that she would be staying forever. Bag End was just too big and lonely for only one person.

 

In April they celebrated Dís’ 184th birthday together with the Gamgee’s and some of Bilbo’s Took relatives that had taken a special liking to her. It was a merry gathering but not as great of a celebration as Bilbo’s birthday had been. Still they both felt that she was accepted as one of the Shire folk now, even if she wasn’t a hobbit. It made her quite happy and she told them later in the evening that she was glad to call this beautiful place her home. It put a few tears in Bilbo’s eyes. He was glad that she finally arrived in a place she felt comfortable to live in, away from sorrow and sadness.

The next morning they had hiked up on Durin’s Hill to spend some time with their family’s trees. Bilbo had been reluctant to see himself as part of it but Dís had told him that he was an idiot and that she saw him as much as a part of her family as he saw her as a part of his. So of course her brothers, sons and husband were his family too.

“Don’t be silly Bilbo Baggins.”, she had said. “Thorin and my sons loved you just as fiercely then as I do now. I’m sure of it.”

They spent most of the morning on that hill, enjoying the fresh but pleasant spring breeze. The trees had grown a lot since they had planted them all these months ago and even Thorin’s oak was beginning to show itself.  
“I am so happy that you suggested to plant these trees.”, Dís told him. “I miss them all so dearly but in this place I feel closer to them even though trees and growing things aren’t really part of dwarven culture.”  
“I’m glad to hear that.”, he answered. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”  
They were quiet for a moment.  
“I can’t wait to show them to the the company when they come and visit.”, Bilbo said happily and allowed himself to think forward to the next time they would all be in one place again. He hoped it would be later that year. He really missed them quite a lot.

 

The evening before the summer festival there was a knock on Bilbo’s door and like he had hoped he found Bofur’s jolly face grinning at him when he opened it. And he wasn’t alone. He came with Ori, Nori, Dori and Dwalin in tow.  
“What a lovely surprise!”, Bilbo cried and ushered all of them inside after giving everyone a short hug.  
“In a few more minutes I was going to start preparing dinner. You really know when to arrive don’t you?”, he chuckled while he lead them to the kitchen where Dís was currently working on the dough for some cookies for the festivities.

“Hey Dís!”, greeted Bofur her happily while sinking down onto a chair.  
“I see you’re making your forbiddenly delicious cookies! Would you maybe make a batch just for us? It would be so sad if we wouldn’t be able to snatch some before the hobbits get a hold of them.”  
She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at the newcomers with a smile on her face.  
“Of course master Bofur. But only because you asked so nicely.”, she said before she went over to greet the rest of them.

Dinner was a merry experience. Having several dwarves as guest would lead to that. But Bilbo had told them not to throw around any food. Sternly. Or he would send them out of the door he said. That lead to him receiving some raised eyebrows but his guest behaved in the end without complaining. After the table had been cleaned and all the dishes put away Bilbo found himself in the comfortable company of Bofur and Dwalin. Ori had snatched Dís away to pester her about the differences between hobbit and dwarven culture and his brothers were taking a walk outside. Dori apparently only joining his brother to watch out that he would be on his best behaviour.

At first there they were only having some small talk but Bilbo knew what Bofur was trying to accomplish. Dwalin had been more quiet than usual. It seemed like he was uncomfortable in Bilbo’s and especially Dís’ company. Bofur wanted to get them to talk. Dwalin probably knew too but he seemed a bit reluctant to touch that unknown territory. So Bilbo took things in his hand.

“Bofur would you mind me borrowing Dwalin for a bit?”  
“Absolutely not! I will go and annoy Ori a bit with throwing in some false information claiming that it is true since I’ve lived here for about a month.”, he said brightly and then left them on their own.  
Bilbo stood up and put a hand on Dwalins arm. “Follow me?”  
They made it to the privacy of Bilbo’s bedroom. He lit a candle while Dwalin looked around awkwardly seemingly not knowing what to do with himself. Bilbo took a seat on his bed and gestured for Dwalin to join him.

“Bofur is something else, isn’t he.”, Bilbo said which made Dwalin chuckle lightly.  
“He sure is.”, he agreed. “He pestered me for days to join him on this trip. Said that it would do me good to talk to you.”  
Bilbo hummed. “But you don’t agree?”

Dwalin ran a hand over his face and sighed.  
“No that’s not it.”, he answered quietly and then paused for a while before he continued. “If I’m honest… I was, still am, afraid. Afraid you were blaming me for what happened on Raven Hill. Blaming me for not being strong enough to protect you all. Blaming me for them dieing and you having to witness it. And since Dís is living here now too… I didn’t want to ever look into her face again. I don’t deserve to. Not after I promised her to keep them safe. Not after I failed her so gravely.”  
He put his face into his hands. His bulky form was shaking. Bilbo put his hand on his leg gently and then leant his head against his friends shoulder.

“I guess Bofur told you about how I feel the exact same thing and you didn’t believe him?”, Bilbo wondered quietly.  
“Yeah how could I? It was never your fault. You did so much for us even after we treated you so badly. You didn’t owe us your loyalty and still you put your own life on the line. You shouldn’t blame yourself for not being able to save them. That was wholly on me. Between the two of us I was the trained warrior entrusted with their life.”

Dwalins words had gotten more and more choked up the longer he talked. Bilbo’s heart bled for the pain his friend felt. He lifted his hand from Dwalin’s leg and pulled one of his hands from his face to take it into his own, his thumb lightly caressing the back of it.

“It wasn’t your fault either. We were attacked by hundreds of goblins and you are only one dwarf. It didn’t matter how well trained you were. We were vastly outnumbered and you couldn’t be everywhere.”  
“I know I know! But still...”, the sentence broke off then and Dwalin started crying into his hand quietly. Bilbo didn’t stop his ministrations and hoped that they were a little comfort for him.

After Dwalin had mostly calmed down Bilbo tried himself on a little humor.  
“You know when I had this talk with Bofur he stayed with me and hugged me to sleep like a wee babe. I would offer you the same treatment but I am afraid that we wouldn’t quite fit in my bed.”  
It brought a small smile to Dwalin’s face who was now rubbing the tears from his face.  
“That’s quite alright. I still appreciate the sentiment.”  
Bilbo hummed lightly and they were quiet for a bit before Bilbo started talking again.

“I know that I probably can’t say anything to make you feel better but I want you to know that neither Dís nor I are blaming you for what happened. If she knew you were thinking this she would whack you over the head.” Another short pause.  
“Don’t let your heart be consumed by grief and despair Dwalin. There is still so much to live for and Thorin and the boys would want you to be happy. Just like me and Dís and all the other people that hold you dear want you to be happy.”  
Dwalin said nothing for a moment letting what Bilbo had told him set. He then bumped their shoulders together which nearly sent Bilbo flying from the bed. The only thing that kept him on it was the fact that their hands were still linked and Dwalin pulled him into his side quickly.

“When have you gotten so wise Master Burglar?”, he asked, his grip on Bilbo’s hand tightening slightly.  
“This is not my wisdom. It is what I was taught by the loving people around me. It took a long time for me to see it too.”

The day of the summer festival started with a pretty tired Bilbo and Dwalin arriving to breakfast late. They had stayed up late into the night talking and hadn’t gotten much sleep because of it. That against all what Bilbo had said before the two of them still ended up trying to fit into Bilbo’s bed didn’t help them falling asleep fast either. It was a bit too crammed and too warm but in the end they managed. Dwalin had told him that dwarves were really into physical affection, especially in times of grief. Suddenly it all made sense to Bilbo. He had wondered why Dís and then later Bofur had touched him so often. It wasn’t common among hobbits.  
“Such a shame.”, Dwalin had said when Bilbo had told him. “It’s nice, isn’t it? At least you’ve seen the light now.”  
Bilbo could only agree.

Even though they ended up pretty tired they didn’t really care in the end. Emotionally they felt so much better than they had in a long time. None of the other dwarves had asked what they had gotten up to that night and why they were so late. They all probably knew judging by the way they were greeted by a bright smile from Bofur and an approving look from Dís.  
Without saying a word Bilbo and Dwalin sat down to eat breakfast. Their friends had prepared enough food to feed an army but Dís said that what they didn’t finish they could carry down to share at the fest. And that’s what they did.

They got quite a few looks at the festival. All of the Shire knew about Dís and had probably met her one way or another but the rest of Bilbo’s company were new to them except maybe Bofur. But it didn’t take long for them to be included in the festivities as well. Ori was quick to find conversational partners with his many questions about the Shire and its traditions as did Dori who was roped into a discussion about good tea fast. Nori found himself some Brandybucks to play cards with and Bofur easily charmed every hobbit that crossed his way. Dwalin had stayed glued to Bilbo’s and Dís’ sides until he was snatched away by a swarm of children who started to climb all over him. Dís smiled brightly as she saw it.  
“Fíli and Kíli used to do the exact same thing.”, she told Bilbo.

 

The festivities went on until late in the night but when people started to go home Bilbo and his dwarves were still wide awake.  
“We could go and visit Durin’s Hill”, Dís suggested. That got the attention of the others.  
“What is Durin’s Hill?”, Ori asked but he only got a smile as an answer.  
“You’ll see.” So Bilbo snatched them a lamp and he lead his dwarves to the place where he had build a place of remembrance together with Dís.

When they arrived the others gaped for a moment obviously not understanding what this little green hill with the tiny trees on top meant. So Bilbo started explaining.  
“That oak over there grew from an acorn I had taken from Beorn’s garden. I had shown it to Thorin once and he told me to plant it in my garden. Dís and I had started to call it Thorin’s oak and then we quickly got the idea to plant some more trees. The elder bushes over there are for the boys. For Frerin we chose a maple tree and for Vili an apple. And since this is now a place of remembrance for the line of Durin we started calling it Durin’s Hill.”

Bilbo sat down and gestured for his friends to do the same. Ori was the first to break the silence.  
“I like it. Unlike the tombs back in Erebor this hill feels more like a celebration of their life and not like a reminder of their death.”

 

Sadly Bilbo’s dwarves couldn’t stay for long. After four more days they got ready to go back to Erebor. Bilbo and Dís made them an excessive amount of food for on the way which they were thanked for profoundly. He also told them that they were all invited to his birthday later in September and asked them to tell the others. He would love for all of the company to come and visit. They told him they would try their hardest to attend. As a last goodbye before sending them on their way he gave all of them a long hug. If the one with Dwalin lasted a bit longer than the others no one said a word about it.

 

It wasn’t that long from the summer festival to his birthday but still Bilbo was getting more and more anxious the closer to the date they got. He really hoped to be united with the entire company.

The days before he expected his friends he was stressbaking like wild. Dís didn’t say anything but she kept giving him sympathetic looks. She knew how nervous he was and how much he wanted and hoped that all of them would come. Especially Balin who was advisor to the king and probably didn’t have much free time to begin with.

The day of truth arrived fast. Bilbo had decided not to mix his hobbit friends with his dwarven friends. He probably wouldn’t be able to handle the chaos that would result from his Took relatives meeting the company.  
It was early in the evening when he finally heard a knock on his front door. He opened it. It was Dwalin.  
“Dwalin. At your service.”, he said with the most serious expression on his face he could muster. Bilbo laughed.  
“Bilbo Baggins at yours.”, he answered hugging his friend. “Please come in. I bet you were told that there would be food. And lots of it. That was correct.”  
Balin couldn’t help to join into the laughter. “I’m glad to hear that.”  
Bilbo tried to find out if the others would come when there was another knock.  
“That would be the door.”, he said with unconcealed mirth in his eyes. Opening it revealed Balin standing in front of him.

“Balin. At your service.”, he said with a little bow just like he did the very first time.  
“Good evening Balin! I’m so glad you could make it.”  
“Me too, laddie, me too.”  
Bilbo lead him into the dining room where Dwalin was currently setting the table together with Dís. He was still a bit awkward and quiet around her but not as bad as the last visit. They had also taken some time to talk things out. Bilbo was glad.

He didn’t have the time to join them in preparing the dinner table before he heard another knock on the door. Opening it revealed the rest of his dwarves. Really all of them had made it.  
“With how first Dwalin and then Balin had arrived I actually expected you to fall through my door like the first time.”, Bilbo greeted them laughing.  
“I tried to talk them into it but the lot wanted to be boring instead and rather not do it.”, Bofur said laughing and stepped into the house to hug him. The others followed his example shortly after and before long they were all gathered around the dinner table.

It really was quite a merry gathering just like Gandalf had said all those years ago. But unlike then he knew why there were so many dwarves in his house. He looked around taking in the faces of the dwarves he went through so much with. He really missed them all badly.

The biggest wish he had had for some time now was spending time again with the dwarves of the company and Dís. And it was a wish granted.

In that moment Bilbo could say that he was truly happy from the bottom of his heart.

 

 

Epilogue

Word had spread about a place in the Shire called Durin’s Hill. A place dedicated to the late members of the line of Durin. They said it was created by the sister of Thorin Oakenshield, daughter of Thrain, the princess Dís and the halfling Bilbo Baggins that was part of the company that had effectively reclaimed Erebor. Many didn’t believe such a place existed but those who went looking for it found a small hill with two elder bushes, an apple, a maple and a strong oak on top of it. Next to the way that lead up to it was an engraved stone that read: “In remembrance of Fíli and Kíli; their father Víli; Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror and Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain son, of Thror, King under the mountain.”.

If the travellers were lucky they met the Lady Dís herself and were invited for tea. She lived together with the halfling that was part of the company. The travellers might’ve felt a bit small in the company of such famous people but they soon found out that both Dís and Bilbo were very pleasant to be around and that they loved to house guests. When they left after tea they left with an invitation to visit again any time.  
All this lead to quite a few dwarves visiting the Shire regularly to honor their late beloved king that had done so much for them. Especially the dwarves of Ered Luin tried to do so at least once a year since the journey to the Shire was shorter than the one to Erebor.  
But not only lady Dís was found at the halflings house. Some days in the year one could also find single members of Thorin Oakenshield’s company or all at once. But those were the days where no outsider was invited for tea.

One summer sunrise Dís and Bilbo were sitting under the shadow of Thorin’s oak when Dís shared a thought that had been plaguing her for some time.  
“You’re getting old Bilbo.”, she had said, “and so am I.” He had just hummed wondering what she was getting at.  
“If you die before me I will plant a tree for you here too.”, she had continued, “And I hope that if, I die first, that you will do the same for me.”  
He had looked at her. “Well then tell me what kind of tree you want me to plant for you? I myself would love a cherry tree.”  
“I want a robinia.”, she had said and Bilbo had nodded. They turned to the rising sun again. After a few minutes he had opened his mouth once more.  
“I might be 90 years old now, but I don’t plan on dieing any time soon.”, he had told her and she had laughed.  
“It’s not like you have any say in it.”  
“Thorin once told me that I was more stubborn than any dwarf he’d ever met so I guess I can just tell death to come back another time.” Dís had laughed even louder at this.  
“I’m sure you would.”

Nearly ten years later there was a new addition to the inhabitants of Bag End. Young Frodo was adopted by Bilbo. Both hobbits shared the same birthday and their love for adventure, even though Frodo had quieted down after his parents death. His new family tried to rekindle that passion though much to the dislike of some of Bilbo’s relatives. Dís and Bilbo taught him many things that most respectable hobbits frowned upon. But they weren’t respectable hobbits. They were an exiled dwarven princess and a hobbit that went on a fool's quest to reclaim an old dwarven kingdom. They had found family in each other and now Frodo found family in them too. It took some time for him to find back to his open and adventurous self again but with their loving care he managed.

They often took long walks together. Frodo, much like Bilbo when he was younger, was often in search for elves in the woods, much to Dís’ disgruntlement. Even after all these years of living together with Bilbo and many visits to Rivendell she still wasn’t overly fond of them. Not that she’d say so to Frodo. She was glad that he had found happiness again. If she spent many hours teaching him about dwarven culture and Khuzdul and telling him about the heros of old to show him that dwarves were much more interesting though? That was an entirely different story. In the end Bilbo was teaching him Sindarin and elven history too. She was just furthering his education and no one could fault her for that.

On Bilbo’s 102nd birthday, like every year, the company came to celebrate with him and since he shared his birthday with Frodo, they were celebrating with him too. Frodo always loved it when Bilbo’s dwarves came to visit. Especially on their birthday. Hobbits really knew how to throw a party but add dwarves to the mix and a great time was guaranteed. This year something was a little off though. They were still a rowdy bunch but Bilbo, Frodo and Dís could see that something was on their mind. That was when Balin told them.  
“This might be the last time we will sit together like this.”, he had said and a few others of the company had nodded solemnly. “Ori, Oin and I are going and try to reclaim Moria. We’ve thought about it good and long and we think that it is time now.”  
Bilbo was not happy to hear about this plan. He was afraid of losing his friends. It was a fool’s quest just like the one to reclaim Erebor. And they all knew how that one ended. They were able to do what they came for. But at what price? Hopefully this wouldn’t end in tragedy as well.

That night Dwalin and Bofur came to sit with Bilbo when everyone else was asleep.  
“I’m afraid for them.”, Dwalin said between puffs on his pipe. “We tried this once and didn’t succeed. I already lost my father and so many others to Khazad-Dûm. I don’t want to lose my brother to it too.” Bofur had put a comforting hand on Dwalin’s leg as he said that.  
“Have you told your brother how you feel about this?”, Bilbo asked.  
“Of course. I tried to reason with him but he has his sight on Durin’s Halls. He doesn’t want to stay in Erebor anymore. Too many bad memories. And since he finished training his apprentice he doesn’t have to worry about his being an advisor to the king anymore. He said he’s leaving him in capable hands.”, Dwalin told him quietly, leaning more into Bofur’s side who then linked their hands. The three of them were quiet for a long time.  
“I can only hope that all of them will be safe.”, Bilbo murmured with dread in his heart. He knew that they wouldn’t be.

The day before his 111th birthday Bilbo sat on Durin’s Hill talking to Dís like he did so often.  
“It’s a shame that the company can’t make it this time.”, he told her. “Especially since it’s such a lucky number. But it’s probably for the best since I’m going to leave for Rivendell right after the party. Like you they wouldn’t be happy about it one bit.”, he said chuckling. “I plan on writing my book about the quest when I arrive there. 60 years have passed since then. It really is time. I hope I’ll be able to finally bring everything to paper. The good and the bad. I’ve never told the full story before.”  
He then turned to the robinia. “Of course Frodo will take care of you and the others. Not that I’ll have to tell him to do so. He really loves you. All of you.”  
He turned away again and looked over Hobbiton, taking in what had been his home for such a long time.  
“I miss you every day.”, he told her. “But I’m glad that it was you who left first. Not that I ever expected to outlive you. But I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through another loss. You already lost so much, you shouldn’t have to lose me too.”  
He leant lightly against the tree, resting his head against the bork like he had rested his head on Dís’ shoulder so many times before. “You did so so much for me. I am so grateful. And I’m glad that I could bring you a bit of the happiness you deserved till the end of your days.”  
With that he got up and started his way back downhill. He turned around for one last time.  
“I love you so much.”  
The words were carried away by the wind.


End file.
